He Would Be There For Her
by LavernaG
Summary: Jude didn't remember being taken to solitary. Of course, at Briarcliff the memories and hallucinations melded together so hopelessly that it was hard to distinguish the reality most of the time. "Look around you, Jude," Kit told her quietly. "We're not at Briarcliff." Two-Shot
1. Chapter 1

_**Hi there!**_

 _ **So, the most amazing thing about Asylum was the beautiful ending they gave Jude. I wept. A lot. My favourite characters nearly always die, but I just want to thank Ryan Murphy for ending Sister Jude's life so wonderfully. Thank you!**_

 _ **As I was doing some gardening a couple of weeks ago, I couldn't keep this plot out of my head. And so this story was born. And it has nothing whatsoever to do with gardening.**_

 _ **I hope you enjoy, and please, please leave me a review if you do! :)**_

* * *

The room was dark, she couldn't see her own hand when she pushed her hair out of her face. And it was cold. She knew it was summer and they always had heating at Briarcliff, but she was cold. She didn't know how long she'd been staring at what she thought must have been the ceiling in the darkness. A shiver ran through her body, and she turned onto her side, hoping a change of position might help her feel a little better. It didn't.

It was so quiet. All she could hear was her own wheezing breathing.

Jude didn't remember being taken to solitary. Of course, at Briarcliff the memories and hallucinations melded together so hopelessly that it was hard to distinguish the reality most of the time. She could have been here for days and she wouldn't know it.

Another shiver forced her to sit up abruptly, and she wrapped her arms around herself, clinging on to her lean body in an effort to feel warmer. It didn't help.

In the complete silence and darkness of the room, Jude tried to remember what year it was. She tried very hard, but failed. It could have been 1965 or it could have been ten years passed. Jude didn't have any idea. She wanted to ask someone—anyone. Timothy would know. But he was the cardinal of New York now. Frank would know. But they said she'd killed him. Sister Mary Eunice would know. No, she was possessed by the Devil. Pepper would know. She was dead. Mother Claudia would know. Where was she now?

Jude knew the door was locked. There was no escape from any room at Briarcliff. But hope dies last. "I need to see Mother Claudia," Jude told herself, her voice low, and rose from the bed with newfound eagerness. There hadn't been any beds in solitary when she'd been in charge. At least they had fixed this.

Jude had no idea where the door could be. Holding her hands out in front of her, she moved slowly until her fingers touched the wall. It wasn't the cold stone wall she'd been expecting to find, but Jude couldn't be bothered to think about it for long. Sliding her hands across the wall, she made her way along the wall, careful not to walk into anything. But there was no furniture in solitary.

When she reached the door, Jude found the handle and a short prayer escaped her lips. Even a confused and miserable soul longs for freedom. And so when she pushed and the door opened, Jude let out a happy sigh, followed by a girlish giggle. Those guards should thank the Lord she wasn't some dangerous criminal.

The hallway wasn't as wide as she'd remembered. There was little light peeking through the window at the end of the hall. Still holding her hands in front of her, Jude moved down the hall, only to stop and gasp when she hit a cupboard. The loud thump was every bit as startling as the collision with the object. Why was there a cupboard in the hall? Jude needed to see Mother Claudia and ask her. Shaking slightly from the cold, she stepped forward.

* * *

The noise from the corridor startled him awake, but it was the gasp that followed an instant later that made him reconsider taking a paper knife with him to go into the hall and investigate. He quickly got up from his warm bed, failing to notice that in his haste he threw the blanket on the floor. Stepping into the corridor, Kit Walker turned the lights on.

The woman in the middle of the corridor jumped, the lights blinding her for a moment. Kit noticed her hair was a mess and that she hadn't put on her robe, her nightgown reaching her ankles. Her eyes darted around desperately, looking for something or someone.

"Jude?" Kit said quietly, walking toward the older woman. His children were asleep, he knew he shouldn't make too much noise. "Why are you up?"

Jude's head snapped up and she stared at him for a long moment. Kit recognized the look in her eyes, he'd had to live with her for long enough to know when Jude was in her own world.

"Kit Walker?" she whispered, searching his face. "What are you doing here? They let you out."

"They did," Kit agreed calmly, stepping forward to touch Jude's arms. The woman took a step away, looking down at his hands mistrustfully.

"You must leave," she said breathlessly. "Go. Before they see you." Jude looked up at his face, the look in her eyes pleading for him to go. Kit realized she was trying to save him from something, or at least she thought she was. "Once you're committed to Briarcliff, you never get out." These words left her in a hoarse whisper. Her eyes were wide and fearful.

Kit understood fully now. He'd thought Jude had recovered by now. She'd been doing so well these last weeks. At daytime she was calm and happy, kind towards the children and smiling even when memories of the last years at Briarcliff made tears fall from her eyes. At night-time she was quiet. Kit had stopped checking on her at night last week. But the Jude that stood before him now, slightly trembling and anxious, that was not the woman Kit had known for the last few weeks. This was the confused one he'd brought out of Briarcliff with him two months ago.

"Look around you, Jude," Kit told her quietly. "We're not at Briarcliff."

As Jude looked around at the light walls and doors in the corridor of Kit's farmhouse, he gently took hold of her arms. And he felt her tremble slightly. When she finally looked up at him again, Jude's eyes were filled with even more confusion and fright than before.

"Where am I?" she inquired in a teary voice.

Kit felt a sharp pain in his chest at seeing Jude so frightened. She was like a child lost in a crowd, crying out for someone familiar, searching for safety. "You're home," Kit explained patiently, trying his best to refrain from scaring Jude any more. "Don't you remember? I brought you out of Briarcliff to live with me and my children. Do you remember Julia and Thomas?"

Jude tilted her head to the side, and Kit was positive she'd remember now. But the next moment Jude shook her head forcefully, muttering, "No. No, no, this is wrong." She tried weakly to break out of Kit's grasp, but the young man held onto her, hoping to keep her attached to reality. "This is wrong, this is wrong," she repeated frantically, her eyes cast down.

"Stop it, Jude!" Kit quietly told her.

"This is wrong, this is wrong," Jude said again, this time trying more forcefully to break free from Kit's hold on her.

In a desperate attempt to break Jude out of her nightmarish fantasy, Kit tightened his grip and shook her with force, yet careful not to hurt her. "Jude! Snap out of it!" he repeated.

Surprised by his sudden forcefulness, Jude quieted down and looked up at Kit. He noticed to his sorrow that the fright hadn't left Jude's eyes. What's worse, a tear now stole down her cheek.

"I want to speak to the Monsignor," she said, her voice barely audible. Feebly, she pushed her hands against Kit's chest, but he couldn't even think of letting her go now.

Kit knew little about Jude's friendship with the Monsignor, but what he did know was what the man had done to her. Betrayal and ingratitude were only the first words that Kit could think of. False hope was the cruellest thing of all. Kit didn't know if Jude remembered it at the moment, but the last thing he wanted to do was to cause this woman more pain.

"The Monsignor can't see you right now," he told her. "He's not here. Maybe tomorrow." With any luck Jude would have forgotten this by morning. "Let me take you back to your room," he offered. "You should be asleep."

"No!" Kit felt another strike at his heart when Jude started to shake her head desperately. "Don't take me back there! I'm not ready," she told him in a pleading tone. "She's there. I'm not ready for her yet."

Kit had no idea whom she was talking about. But the way she gripped at his arms and stared into his eyes desperately made him feel sorry beyond belief. "I'm coming with you," he promised in a kind tone. "You'll see, there's nothing to be scared of." He stepped closer to the woman and put one arm around her shoulders.

"No," Jude whispered to him. "Please!"

Kit felt her trembling as he started to lead her back towards her room. Jude leant heavily against him, muttering another, "Please." Kit lead her through the doorway, refraining from turning on the light. The lights in the corridor lit the way from the door to Jude's bed.

She stopped halfway into the room, looking around the room as if she'd never seen it before. After a few moments Kit felt something relax in Jude as the tension left her shoulders and she obediently let him lead her to the bed. Kit put his hands on her shoulders and gently pushed her to sit on the edge of the bed.

"See?" he said softly. "There's nothing to be afraid of. There's no one here but us." Jude turned to face him and smiled slightly. Kit couldn't be sure if she'd heard him, but he hoped so. The fear was gone from her eyes.

He gently pushed Jude down onto the bed, resting her head against the pillows and raising her feet onto the bed as well. When he pulled the covers over her, Kit noticed she was watching him. And the look in her eyes was clear. Kit bowed over her and held her hand for a long moment. "You'll be fine now," he said quietly and stood straight, ready to let go of her hand and leave.

But Jude latched on to his hand, making Kit turn back towards her. He looked at her with worry. "I'm cold," she whispered. And only now did Kit notice her form shaking under the covers.

It was the middle of May. Kit himself had been overly warm in his own bed. But the sight of Jude so small and helpless again hurt him more than he dared to admit to himself. And in an instant he knew how he could help her.

Kit let go of Jude's hand, turning when he saw the desperately pleading look she gave him. He stepped around the bed, feeling Jude's eyes on him, watching his every move. Raising the covers, Kit lay down next to her, retaining a small distance between them just in case Jude would object to his closeness.

Jude turned to look up into Kit's face. He hoped his eyes could tell her how much he wanted her to feel better, to feel warmer and to feel safe. A flicker of doubt had made its way into Jude's eyes, but a look into Kit's kind eyes dismissed the fear instantly.

Jude cuddled closer to him, her shivering form coming to contact with his warm one. Kit wrapped a protective arm around Jude in his attempt to shield her of all her fears and sorrows. She was still trembling as she rested her head against his chest and brought a hand up next to her head. Kit caressed her back soothingly, feeling Jude's body relax against him.

It didn't take her a minute to fall asleep. Kit heard her breathing slow and calm, the trembling ceased. Kit looked at the blonde hair spread over his chest for the last time, and closed his eyes.

 _To be continued..._


	2. Chapter 2

He didn't know how long he had lain there, watching her. He didn't think he could get enough of her pleasant scent. Her hair was soft and silky, shining in the sunlight that invaded the room from the windows. He loved the way it brushed against his skin when he turned his head ever so slightly. Her chest moved in a calm rhythm, while the rest of her lay completely still.

He couldn't turn his eyes from her. She looked twenty years younger in the sunlight. And by God, she was beautiful! The curve of her nose, the high cheekbones, the beautiful lips and those warm brown eyes—her face was a model of perfection. She was so calm and quiet now, like a sleeping angel. Jude had a peaceful expression on her face, and Kit couldn't deny the pride he felt for easing her worry from last night.

Her eyes had always reminded Kit of a puppy's, whether she was happy or sad, friendly or angry, mistrustful or loyal. When he'd found her at Briarcliff, Kit couldn't believe how empty those wonderful eyes had become. Little by little he'd watched as the life returned to them, and along with it happiness and trust. And it was so much more than he had bargained for when he'd decided to forgive her, and to save her.

When he'd noticed her sitting all alone in the overcrowded common room, something inside him had broken—some old feud had been sorted out. Kit had seen she was suffering. As much as he'd wished for it when he himself had been at Briarcliff, Kit couldn't find it in himself to feel any contentment at seeing Jude like this. He'd done the only human thing possible. He'd felt a small pride at his little victories when Jude had started to look at him—really see him—, when she'd started to understand him and finally communicate. Kit didn't see himself as the hero. He was a friend.

For all the time he'd known Sister Jude, only as a madwoman had he started to see her as a woman and a fellow human being. He'd seen her ups and downs by now. He'd seen her fall off a chair with laughter. He'd seen her cry her heart out for something she refused to share with him. And he'd seen her fall asleep in his arms like an innocent child.

The day he'd first seen her there in the common room, sickly and lost, Kit had made a promise to himself to care for her. He did want to forgive. He longed for some piece of mind and to leave the past behind. But that wasn't all. When he'd been at Briarcliff, he'd had Grace and Lana. Jude had no one. Kit knew all too well how that felt. And so he promised to himself that he would be there for her. The past was in the past.

From the way her body tensed slightly, Kit realized Jude had woken up. The both of them lay completely still for a while, Kit relishing the feeling of their closeness and wondering what must be going on inside Jude's head. He wouldn't have blamed her if she'd darted from the bed the moment she'd gathered up the energy to do that. After all, he had invaded her personal space quite uninvited and during her moment of weakness. But he wished she wouldn't go.

Ever so slowly and hesitantly, Jude raised her head to look up at the man who was holding her in his arms. Her puppy eyes locked with his. And to his enormous surprise and delight, Kit realized she looked happy, even thankful.

"Good morning," he said quietly. And almost unconsciously his hand moved against her back, holding her against him. He could see Jude was not about to protest, although she had every right to.

"Morning," she breathed in reply. Kit thought he'd never seen a more beautiful smile than the one Jude was wearing this morning—happy, peaceful and trusting. She didn't seem a bit troubled by their familiar position. In fact, she was peace itself.

Both Alma and Grace had always felt the need to woo him when they'd been together. But Jude just lay there, content with their closeness and the intimacy of the scene without pushing further. And Kit felt whole. Caring for Jude and bringing her this peace of mind and safeness of the soul felt a thousand times better than being her lover.

"Did you sleep well?" Kit asked, gently pushing a lock of hair out of Jude's face. And unlike any lover Kit had ever known, she didn't move. She didn't lean into his touch for more or encourage him to explore her further. She didn't want this delicate peace between them to break. And neither did Kit. Theirs was a perfect balance of care and need for caring, hurt and comfort, of fragility and protection.

Jude replied with an affirmative sound, her eyes still locked with his. "Like a child," she said, her voice small and warm. With a slight frown she added, "I must have behaved really badly last night." A flicker of worry and shame had appeared in her nut brown eyes. Kit was quick to soothe her concern.

"No-no, it's alright," he told her kindly, carefully tracing a finger over her cheekbone. "You were just a little confused, that's all." Her skin felt like the softest of silks. At Kit's words the worry left her eyes, and they glimmered with trust and delight as Kit gently caressed her cheek. They could have stayed like this forever.

"Daddy!"

But Kit's other angel was calling for him. His eyes flicked to the door and back to Jude. He didn't want to get out of bed and leave her, not now that they were both so happy. But at the same time there was nothing in the world that was more important to him than his children. Julia just wanted him to tell her good morning and maybe partake in a brief pillow-fight with her brother. It didn't matter what it was that she needed her daddy for, Kit knew he had to be there.

Fortunately, Jude was a woman. Kit knew she herself had been deprived of motherhood, but she understood the connection between Kit and his offspring. She'd once told him that all she'd ever wanted was a family of her own. This was as close as she was ever going to get to that dream. Julia and Thomas called her their Nana, and they loved her. The four of them were a happy family.

Jude understood that Kit needed to go to his daughter. She smiled and calmly moved away from him just a little, finally resting her head on the pillow she hadn't touched since Kit had joined her in the bed. She looked up at the young man with a warm smile and without even the slightest bit of disappointment at him leaving her side.

Kit found this extraordinary. He'd never—not even with his own mother—shared a relationship where neither part was in the least clingy. Both Alma and Grace had always tried to hold him back when he'd tried to get out of bed. They'd tried so hard to keep him to themselves and to keep the love between them alive. Jude was different. There was a complete peace between them, an unspoken love that did not need to be nurtured to stay alive.

"I need to go," Kit said quietly, although he knew Jude had already come to that conclusion. She watched him silently as he smiled down at her, sat up and stood from the bed. He turned back for a moment to adjust the bedclothes, and his eyes were sparkling happily. Jude pulled the covers up to her chin.

* * *

Kit returned to Jude's room not ten minutes later. Julia and Thomas were getting dressed, Kit had made tea in the kitchen and promised the children they'd go out for a picnic in the afternoon. The children had each given their daddy a kiss for it and promised to show their Nana where the most beautiful flowers grew in the woods.

For a fleeting moment the young father stood in Jude's doorway, watching her small form shiver under her thick blanket. She had almost disappeared under the covers, leaving out only her slightly reddened face. On second thought, leaving Jude alone might have not been one of Kit's brightest ideas.

Crossing the room with three quick strides, Kit approached the bed, bending down over Jude and placing a hand on her forehead. Jude had opened her eyes moments before and was now looking up at him with a feverish fright in her lovely brown eyes.

"You're burning up, Jude," Kit said, removing his hand from Jude's overly warm face. A hand shot out from under the covers and caught his. Kit looked from the hand that had startled him to its owner's face worriedly. When she spoke, her voice was small and shaky.

"I'm cold."

At that moment Kit wanted nothing more than to hug Jude tight and take away all her discomfort and fear. "I think you have a temperature," he said, placing Jude's hand back under the covers. She was shaking violently and she frowned in discomfort. It had been quite long since Kit had been ill last, but he knew well enough how bad it felt.

For a brief moment an amused glint appeared in Jude's eyes. "You mean a fever," she said quietly. "Everybody's got a temperature. Unless, of course, they're dead." And she and Kit wore matching smiles for a moment.

* * *

Thirteen hours and two dozen mugs of tea later Kit settled down in a chair right next to Jude's bedside, placing his book on her night-stand. He'd been reading to Jude and the children, until the latter two had had to go to bed. Julia and Thomas had kissed both Kit and Jude goodnight and—like the good children that they were—gone to bed with no argument whatsoever. They'd been a bit disappointed that their picnic had been cancelled, but they'd kept busy all day by entertaining their Nana. They had brought her flowers like when she'd first been out of Briarcliff. Only this time they'd put them in a vase rather than Jude's hair.

When the children had been outside, Jude had complained about a headache, upon which Kit had brought her every medicine he could think of in the house to ease her pain. There was an arsenal of medicines on the night-stand next to the flowers and the book. Jude had dozed off many times during the day, only to shortly wake up from a nightmare and search for Kit's solace. Kit had been there and held her hand—or occasionally her—at these times, determined to ease her fright and worry.

Because Jude needed to be cared for, and she needed to be cherished and loved. Kit knew that now. Love was something Jude had been deprived of her whole life—first by her family, then by her unholy lifestyle and finally by her holy one. Kit wanted to give her all the love he could give—and more. He wanted to make her feel happy and wanted and loved. For the first time in his life Kit had the possibility to save a life with his love.

Jude was lying quietly under the warm covers, watching Kit with her eyelids half-closed, too tired to form neither a frown or a smile. A wet cloth had been placed over her burning hot forehead. She looked miserable, but as Kit had assumed, she was too scared or simply too uncomfortable to fall asleep. In the silence that had settled upon the room, Kit could hear her shallow breathing.

Calmly he leaned forward and picked up Jude's hand in both of his. It was a lot warmer than Kit would have liked, and yet another shiver ran through her body. He gently caressed the top of her hand, gathering the courage to break the peaceful silence.

"Jude," he said quietly, and although she didn't move a muscle, Kit knew Jude was paying close attention. He caught the glint of her eyes and held her gaze confidently. "I hope you know how much I love you."

After a short pause Kit saw her lips twist into a small smile, while two large tears stole down her pallid cheeks.

 _The End_


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